It never was the same again
by RovKie
Summary: The war has been won, but the suffering and the losses were real. It was no place for feeling victorious. Harry meets up with Ron and Hermione, and wants to mourn the death of many of his friends. Instead, he realises what his sacrifice really was about. Rated K for dark theme.


**HP – It never was the same again**

 **I'm not making money of this, just the fun of writing.**

 **I've been very busy lately at work, but I'm still working (albeit very slowly, having taken already a few years) on the next chapter of "Back to school". But this came to me this evening, having been inspired by an online post on the Potterhead FB group. I just thought about how Harry's friends would experience the "victory" of the Hogwarts battle. And the consequences for Harry, knowing how vulnerable he is to the feelings of his friends. Dark theme, but it fits my mood at the moment. It seems I like writing more when I'm in a dark mood somehow...**

The battle of Hogwarts had ended. They had been victorious. All the Death Eaters and alike that had been left standing had been rounded up and taken into custody. But it wasn't a victorious feeling that Harry had, on the contrary. Too many people had died, useless, painful deaths, that would never be redeemed. But Harry didn't realise yet the full extend of the damage that had been done.

The first signs came soon enough though, but it was impossible to recognise them in the melee of it all. It first happened when he entered the Great Hall where the survivors where mourning their dead. He wanted to make his way to the Weasleys and take part in the mourning process of Fred"s death. But instead, when he approached, he met with the painful sight of Ron and George, on their knees crying over the lifeless body of their brother. Ron, upon seeing Harry between his tears, jumped up and ran towards him, desperation in his eyes. He hit Harry firmly in the face, sending Harry flailing to the ground before Hermione could stop Ron. Ron stood over him, fury visible in his eyes.

"Why are you so goddamn special? This is all your fault! Why is it that you can come back from the dead, but not Fred! Fred never did anything wrong to anyone! You are the cause of this all, Harry! If anyone should have died, it should be you!"

Harry understood him, and so didn't respond. It was true, after all. He was the cause of all of it. Voldemort, and his crazy obsession to kill the Boy Who Lived, was the reason Fred was dead. He felt like indeed, he didn't deserve to live. And this time there wasn't anyone to contradict him.

Hermione pulled Ron away, and Ron went back to mourning his brother. The rest of the Weasley family mourned with Ron, and did their best to ignore Harry. But the few looks he got made it clear that he wasn't wanted there.

Harry exchanged a quick look with Hermione, hoping for a hint of understanding. Instead he was met with a gaunt image of the girl he once knew. The girl that he once loved – still did if he was honest – but had left for his best friend because he knew they would suit each other better. Or at least that's what he had thought then, but he wasn't so sure about that anymore now. That girl, Hermione, didn't show any emotion now, no sympathy, no friendship, nothing. Just the solemn look of defeat.

He gave her a pleading look of confusion, and she came his way, for a brief conversation.

"I have left my parents behind in Australia, Harry. For you, for this stupid war. What I did, the curse I've put them under, it's so strong, so evil, that it cannot be reversed... It takes conviction Harry, to pull of such an evil curse that people forget the person they love the most. And I can never see them again. The pain would be too strong, because they wouldn't recognise me. The curse has a side effect, you know. Not only would they not recognise me anymore, but they also develop a strong disliking for the person they are forgetting. To make sure that it can never be reversed. I can never see my parents again, Harry. And for what? For this? Pain, suffering... nothing good came of this victory Harry.

If only this wouldn't have happened, if only you would have died when you had to, being a baby... I wouldn't have been raised a wizard, but I would have been with my family instead. Now everything has been destroyed, and I have been stranded with nothing. Even less than nothing, because I have a person I love, Ron, who will probably never recover from this trauma. And so will I, Harry, I will never recover... Go, please, just go... and never come back..."

And so Harry did. He understood them all too well. That had always been his problem. He had always understood others more than he should have. He understood his friends now. He understood that they wouldn't change their mind now, nor in the near future. And probably not even in the foreseeable future. That's when it hit him.

Harry realised that he had lost much more than he could have thought of. His sacrifice wasn't death. It wasn't life without his family either. His sacrifice was to live without love. Without the love of people who loved him all through it all, love that he had lost now for ever. Love that he had lost, because he had fulfilled his destiny. His destiny to save those who he loved, at all cost. Only that cost was higher then he ever could have imagined. But even so, he accepted that cost, taking consolation in the fact that they would live. A broken life indeed, but it was better – he tried to tell himself – than no life at all. There was only one more thing to do for him. He would have lifted his chin up high, but there was no reason to. So he kept his eyes fixated on the ground and walked off. Harry flood to central London, and once there, got on the Tube. Ready for a life in obscurity, he was swallowed by the muggle world, never to appear again in the wizarding world.


End file.
